


Five Times Dean Lied to John

by cofax



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5 Things, Bob - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-12
Updated: 2010-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:18:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Destina, because she asked.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Five Times Dean Lied to John

**Author's Note:**

> For Destina, because she asked.

**1.** "I didn't know, Dad. He never told me."

It was only _partly_ a lie--Sam never actually _told_ Dean about the scholarship. But when you live in each others' pockets, you learn things. And Dean was pretty sure Sam wanted Dean to know--else why leave the acceptance letter right out there that way, sticking out between _Jane Eyre_ and _Great Expectations_? (Dean hadn't actually read the books--that was what Cliff's Notes were for--but he didn't miss the symbolism there.) It was like Sam _wanted_ Dean to read it.

But the first half? Totally a lie.

Sam still has no idea what it took him to say nothing for four months, until that steaming day in August when it all blew up.

*

**2.** "It's gonna be okay, Dad. You're gonna be fine."

Dean should have loaded him into the backseat instead of the front; with Dad's weight on the seat, he can't pull the bench forward enough to reach the pedals without straining. "Shit!"

That's enough to earn him a clip on the ear most days, but Dad's curled next to the window, panting hard, breath fogging the glass. Lost in the pain.

Dean bites his lip, clamps both hands over the lever, and heaves forward. The bench seat moves just enough, jarring Dad into a groan. Doesn't matter at this point--they've got to move.

The steering wheel is bitter cold, the keys sticky with blood; he fumbles them into the ignition and starts it. The shake and rumble as he steers them out of the field onto the rutted fire road pulls another groan from Dad. Eight miles to the motel where Sammy sleeps curled around that ratty little bear, another eleven to the hospital: Dad always makes sure they know where to go when things go bad.

Things have gone very bad.

Dean pulls the car out onto the main road and brings it up to fifty, hunched over the steering wheel. He can't take his eyes off the road, not even to check on his father, see if the bandages are holding. "You're gonna be okay, Dad."

*

**3.** "Of course I wore a rubber, Dad! I'm not stupid!"

Three years later, driving through on his way back from Wichita, he swings through the old neighborhood, just to see. Tommy Phelan is pushing a lawn mower, choking in the exhaust; and Janine-Marie, who at fifteen was the highlight of Kay County Oklahoma, is chasing a toddler down the driveway, right hand splayed on her swelling belly. Laughing.

Dean doesn't stop driving for another sixty miles, skin cold, mind blank. He lasts for three solid weeks before staying out one night after they put down a corrigan. Dad gives him the eye in the morning, but says nothing.

*

**4.** "Sammy's got the stomach-flu, Dad."

It's a big brother's _job_ to teach the squirt how to drink. It's not Dean's fault Sammy's such a fucking lightweight.

*

**5.** "I won't get a scratch on her, I swear!"

The crowbar is slippery in his sweaty hands as he swings it, over and over.


End file.
